#hooksem

ASHE. ♤ 

“Honestly can’t believe a pair like you and the Rat has managed to rob Banco de Dorado on ya own.”

Not that Ashe didn’t have impressive stunts to her curriculum, quite some spectacular scores she has carried out in the past, but going that close to LumériCo and getting away with their own skin? Yeah, that was fascinating to the Deadlock gang leader.

A soft glance over the man speaking to her, and Mallory smiled weakly, somewhere between tired and nervous and polite.

"Well...forgive me for saying so, sir, but I think in any case...you'd have much less reason to fear than I would." She leaned a bit further out of the dumpster. Clear coast? Didn't sound like footsteps running towards her anymore. "Perhaps there is nothing you cannot fight, but...Sometimes that's not an option."

Mallory pulled herself over the lip, a few stray wisps of paper stuck in her hair as she climbed down the side of the dumpster carefully. On the ground, she leaned against it, taking a moment to recover from the chase.

"...Sometimes a thing is very much worth fearing, and sometimes there is no choice, sir." A careful look over him. He...

With his last adventure into the frozen wasteland cut short by the meddling efforts of one mister Hog, Jamison spent the better part of the last thirty minutes fighting with traditional winter wear. Whoever made this shit didn’t very well consider the needs of the cripple, did they? Putting on snow pants with a pegleg? Might as well stick the thing up your ass! Getting into a coat with a robotic arm? Well and dandy until it came time to zip the fucker up. 

Snow boots?!

Actually they’d gotten him velcro ones. How considerate!

But the real pièce de résistance? The hat and gloves he stole from the Chinese woman. ....Well...glove, singular. He didn’t really need the other one. They were cute. Warm, too.

Considering all the effort, swearing and complaining, nothing was going to stop him from getting outside in all that sweet, wonderful white shit. Who knew something that wasn’t on fire could be so beautiful?

@tohomonai / @hooksem, haribo is as sweet and talentously delicious as gummy bears! HAHAHAHA MY PUNS ARE SO LAME

For the most part, the people at this ‘watchpoint’ place had been nice. 

Sure, a fair handful were pretty grumpy or too busy to really acknowledge his presence unless he was being tested or interviewed about the portal that brought him there (which he still didn’t quite understand), but it was kind of expected. Apparently these people were getting ready for some sort of war, and keeping an eye on a ditzy seventeen year old was not high on their priority list. He had his boundaries: he couldn’t go in the armory, server rooms, or anyone’s personal quarters without permission, but otherwise he had free reign!

That also meant he was likely to run into the less friendly members of the compound. 

Quite literally this time. Barry took a corner at mach speeds, locked in a very high-stakes game of tag with the snow-making robot, when he collided face first into a rather round abdomen. 

The impact alone was enough to knock the boy back onto his ass, leaving him sputtering breathless apologies before he finally looked up at who he’d ran into.

That was one of the people the talking gorilla recommended he avoided. 

Whoops. 

“Hey, Road!”

He probably didn’t need to speak so loud to get his attention, considering Overwatch’s living quarters were usually quiet, but it was a force of habit. Hog found every excuse not to pay attention to him, so Rat had to find every reason to make him look up. 

Today’s issue was very unimportant, though, so a simple greeting as he trotted back into their quarters would do. 

“D’you ever realize just how many brands of fuckin’ toothpaste there is in the world?” An odd question for most, but a fairly normal conversational piece for the Junker. “I was lookin’ through them order forms ‘n shit, you know, in case they’d ever bring in somethin’ good, and there was a fill in for what kinda toothpaste you used. An’ I asked meself, ‘How many kinds could there be?’ But I asked aloud, right? An’ one of them sentry bot-computer-machines heard me, yeah? Started rambling off a whole list! Flavors and types an’ brands...shit’s weird. “

Clearly a mind boggling revelation. Something he needed to think about sitting down, throwing himself into the chair by the door.

There were a couple of things Junkrat loved: explosions, gold, and pissing off Road. Maybe it was because Jamison never really learned how to deal with his anger and was lashing out at the closest living thing, or maybe it was because he wasn’t loved enough in his childhood, or maybe it was because he was a dick, but something about getting under Mako’s skin tickled him so. He didn’t really have time or a reason (or mental capacity) to ponder why, so he simply indulged on the whim whenever it struck him. 

Today that whim was because someone (himself) fucked up a pretty nice score. 

Junkrat wouldn't have even said anything if he didn’t hear Roadhog grunt in annoyance at his complaints. He had every right to be snippy! Self defense!

And, apparently, Rat also had every right to nearly get bucked from the cart he was riding.

“OI!” He protested, knees slammed against the inside of the cart and chest against the top. Fuck that hurt--

Wait they were accelerating WAIT

How much force did it take to snap a neck? A little more than what his driver just forced onto him, probably. 

“OI!?” He said again, louder this time. Sure, Road had a point, but that was a funny way way to draw a conversation’s attention back to himself. Maybe he could scrounge up some protective padding if he was going to keep pulling this shit. At least a leather jacket. 

Today was the fourth!

It was the only time of year that he made sure he was in America. The farther into the Middle Of Nowhere, the better, the bigger the explosions got! Was it wrong for an Aussie to be so patriotic about a country he didn’t really like? Probably. Did Junkrat give a rat’s ass? Nope!

It was also ironic that most of the fireworks he had were from China and Mexico, but he didn’t appreciate that as much as he could have. Most firework users would tell you that setting most of your explosives off at the same time was just asking for trouble, but Jamison wasn’t most people.

He’d give the stray cows and tumbleweeds (and Roadhog) one warning:

“FIRE IN THE HOLE!”